


Special Request

by LadyBookwormWithTeeth



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Dirty Talk, F/M, Licking, NSFW, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rumbelle - Freeform, Rumbelle AU - Freeform, domme belle, sub rumple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 18:35:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3860350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBookwormWithTeeth/pseuds/LadyBookwormWithTeeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys Gold asks his Domme for something he’s not even sure he wants to do. Post-sex bliss, some dirty talking, and a lot of licking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Special Request

The request left his lips in quiet words, as if he could stop them and take them back at any moment, but he didn’t. Hearing his thoughts out loud made everything very concrete, utterly terrifying. But it also filled him with an enormous sense of relief.

From the top of her stilettos, his Lady looked down at him – never  _on_  him, not Lady Belle. She had the power to do so, Rhys had given her the power himself, and right now, as far as he was concerned, she had every good reason to despise him. He shouldn’t have asked for something like that. Rhys knew that. If only he had thought it over more carefully, but the words were gone before he even realized he had spoken. He was still floating miles away from decency after she had granted him release, and wasn’t that the point of their meetings?

His mind was too loud. There were so many voices in his head that they usually got in the way of everything: his work, his relationships, even his pleasure. With her, he didn’t have to think. He didn’t have to be Rhys Gold, the heartless pawnbroker and land owner who was always summing up rents in his head, and going over his inventory, and worrying about his bloody leg. In front of Lady Belle, he could reduce himself to the pain in his legs from being in that position too long and let  _her_  worry about his weak ankle. He could enjoy the burning on his cheeks when she called him a whore in that affectionate tone without it ever becoming an unbearable feeling of shame. He could allow himself orgasms that ripped him apart and made his mind, his loud, messy, maddening mind go completely blank as he spilled himself on the perfectly polished wooden floor of their hotel room. In those seconds, when his mind was floating and he was moaning in complete incoherence, there was nothing left to bother him with trivial problems, nor to question why he decided to drive four hours to kneel at this girl’s feet once a week, nor to think twice before he opened his mouth.

Which, right now, he bitterly regretted. Whatever quietness he might have experienced before, it was being quickly replaced with unpleasant scenarios and if she hadn’t been holding his chin up and making him look into her eyes, he’d lower his head in shame and pretend he had never uttered a word. At any time now, the look on her face would turn into disgust that she simply couldn’t hold back, and her voice wouldn’t be at all seductive when she shouted at him, saying he was not supposed to ask for something like  _that_. It was foul and things such as those had no place in their game. The thumb that was currently stroking his cheek would stop the reassuring touch and his Lady would slap him, hard. Rhys had tasted her palm on his backside sufficient times before to know she was strong enough to make it hurt.

However, Belle’s face was as neutral as ever. His Lady was looking at him like she always did in those situations, and doing what she was supposed to do: she was examining his expression carefully, considering, evaluating what he had just asked of her to make sure he meant it, that he wasn’t getting carried away, too caught up in endorphins to know he’d regret this once they were done. Wouldn’t be the first time and, as she had promised him in the occasion, she’d be more careful in the future.

“Is this what you want, pet?” her velveteen voice asked, no judgment in her tone.

“Yes,” he rasped back. The lack of hesitation in his own voice surprised him.

“Ask again, then. Look into my eyes as you speak.”

His apple executed a very labored rise and drop. She still held him firmly by the chin, her thumb giving his cheek very soft, comforting strokes. Her sweet blue eyes were kind, but he wanted nothing more than to look away, focus on anything else. The curve of her neck. The volume of her breasts beneath the bra. The hint of pubic hair right above the line of her panties. He often wondered what lied behind the very little lace she wore during their games, though her lingerie didn’t leave much to the imagination.

Still, the color of her nipples… the way her pussy looked when she was aroused and wet behind the fabric of her panties… even the sound of her bare feet on the floor… she had always met him on top of the highest and loudest heels. All things that intrigued him far beyond those sessions.

“You’re not paying attention,” she said, making him snap his eyes back to her face.

“I’m sorry. My Lady,” he added, hurriedly.

“Tell me what you want, pet,” Lady Belle said. “If you still want it.”

“Please,” he whispered, measuring his words this time. “May I lick the floor clean, my Lady?”

He couldn’t be more specific than that. He prayed she wouldn’t ask him to be.

“Only if you do it properly.”

At first, he didn’t process her reply fully. All he knew was that she had given him her permission – somewhat. That was enough to make his heart start racing.

“Will you do it properly?” Lady Belle asked, still stroking his cheek.

He opened his mouth. Closed it again. By the tone of her voice, he was supposed to know the answer, but he had no idea what she meant by that. Usually, everything was agreed upon beforehand, and the little surprises she came up with as they went along didn’t stray from their verbal contract. Not knowing always made him nervous. He’d learned to expect the worst in people.

“I’m…” he started, but then trailed off.

He expected Belle to jump in and explain on her own accord, but his Lady awaited, ever so patient, for his decision. Or for him to give up.

In times like these, he wished she’d just slap him and reprimand him for not knowing what to do. Instead, she waited for him to gather courage to  _ask_.

“You need to get used to talking to me,” she told him quite often. “To tell me what you need. I won’t be mad, as long as you’re respectful.”

But some days, such as this, he just felt like a coward and wished she’d treat him as such, like most of his lovers had. Be disappointed. Curse him. Why couldn’t he just  _know_  what she meant? Why did he have to be so  _ignorant_? Why did she have to explain  _everything_  to-

“Pet?” she called him, and he could hear very clearly a hint of worry in that word. He wondered if he was  _looking_  as cornered as he was starting to feel. Rhys was usually good at concealing his emotions, but Belle was just as good at reading people. Or maybe she was good at reading  _him._

“Yes, my Lady,” he answered immediately.

“Do you understand what I mean?”

He cleared his throat to give himself a moment to decide whether he should lie, but decided to confess, “No, my Lady. I’m-”

“I’ll show you.”

Her heels clacked on the floor as she started moving to position herself behind him. The hand that was on his cheekbone left to run its fingers through his hair. She knew he found that particular gesture very reassuring, but right now it didn’t do much to calm his nerves.

Above the sound of her heels and the ruffling of his own hair, came her voice, “Pay attention, pet. I will not explain this twice.”

“Yes, my Lady,” he replied, sighing at the authority once again making her voice firm. Her kindness was always a relief, but  _this_  was the sound that made him feel safe. Rules and structure that meant he could let go and she’d be right there to keep him in line.

“And there will be no excuses for getting it wrong in the future.”

He swallowed a lump in his throat that gave him no time for a respectful reply before she ordered, “Up on your knees.”

Rhys did as he was told, pushing himself up from sitting down on his heels. Though his body was starting to go sore from their previous game, he forced his back straight and tried to keep his legs parallel, just the way she liked it and had been teaching him for weeks. But it was the end of their session and his body was not as young as it used to be – probably way older than those of her other lovers, including the fiance she doesn’t talk about. His muscles complained the moment he started pushing his limits and there was a slump on his shoulders he couldn’t fix. The hands resting on the small of his back were supposed to be still, but they were fidgeting for a good ten seconds before he could stop them.

It was far from being the exemplary posture she taught him and expected of him at all times. On top of that, his cock hung limp between his legs, too tired to harden anytime soon. Especially after wasting all its stamina getting the floor dirty.

And it is quite a mess he made.

A mess he just asked to lick clean.

“Keep your knees apart.”

Rhys moved clumsily to obey, but she was not satisfied when he stopped and ordered, “Further apart.”

The next attempt made his thighs burn with exhaustion and he lost balance. One of his hands left his back and hit the floor, balancing him with a loud thump that echoed inside the living room for a never ending moment. He wasn’t sure if falling on his face wouldn’t have been less offensive.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, the tone of his voice leaving no doubt he was fully aware of the graveness of his mistake.

Lady Belle replied, “Lets try this again.” If she was furious, she didn’t let it show.

He pulled himself back on his knees. When her hand took a hold of his hair, however, Rhys gasped, expecting her to yank his head back and press her mouth to his ear with a reprimand. His Lady could be vicious if she wanted to, and she usually was if she thought he wasn’t even trying to please her.

Instead, she said, “Lean back.” It wasnt particularly warm, but he recognized it as a small favor and did as she said. With her hand helping support his weight it was easier to slide his knees further apart. For such a small woman, Belle was surprisingly strong.

“I expect a better performance next time,” she warned him, a hand still firmly buried in his hair.

“Yes, my Lady.”

“Now, on your hands and knees.”

She let go of him with a gentle push that didn’t affect his equilibrium. But he enjoyed the impulse nonetheless as an opportunity to land on his hands.

“Very good,” she said, and he could hear the little smile in her voice. It was such a beautiful sound. It always made him proud of himself. “Now, arch your back and let me see that pretty ass of yours.”

The new order made him shiver, though not because he found her scrutiny particularly unpleasant. She took great pleasure in having him display himself for her eyes and commanded him to do so on a regular basis. It was her personal fetish, as far as he knew, to watch his body closely, trace the lines of his muscles with the tip of her finger, and comment on his beauty. He still didn’t see it in the mirror, but he knew she was being honest, and not cruel. In fact, the thought of someone as beautiful as his Lady worshiping his body with her eyes was particularly thrilling, not to mention quite an ego boost.

But to arch his back as she was asking would mean he’d be closer to the ground, and to what she wanted him to do.

No.

To what he wanted so desperately to do that he had just begged for her permission. Twice.

His movements were stiff, uncomfortable, as if his body was trying to find a loophole by which he could do as she asked, but not move his shoulder any lower. The result was a pathetic curve on his lower back that slightly pushed his buttocks up, leaving his stomach to hang heavily, even though he was lean and there wasn’t much to hang to begin with.

This time, her mercy was replaced by a heavy sigh. But instead of a reprimand, she moved to stand by his side. He knew better than to look up, but he could feel that the smile his submission had inspired just seconds before was gone.

Her leg executed a graceful arc and the sole of her high heel was suddenly resting between his shoulder blades.

“If you’re not even going to make an effort, you shouldn’t be wasting my time,” she said, and her heel started pressing down. “Get down on your elbows.”

The pressure was gentle, a mere suggestion. If he wanted to, he could fight it. But he didn’t want to, and did exactly as she commanded, lowering himself and pushing his hips backs. His seed was now inches away, but if he looked at it he knew he could lose courage, so he sought refuge behind closed eyes.

“There you go,” she said, sounding more pleased with herself than with him. “Get that ass up in the air now. You know how much I love to look at it.”

“Yes, my Lady.”

“Push it back as much as you can, and make an effort this time. I want to see what’s in between those cheeks.”

With her shoe on his back, Rhys found it easier to follow her orders, though the pressure she was exerting before was now gone. He arched his back and pushed his hips up, keeping his knees apart. His cheeks parted easily, leaving him fully exposed.

And yet, he could still feel her eyes on the back of his neck.

When she said nothing for a few seconds, he swallowed down his hesitation and asked, “Does this please you, my Lady?”

“It does please me,” she answered, contemplative. “ _Immensely_. If it was up to me, I’d have you like this at all times. On your knees, where you belong. Naked, as you should always be in my presence. With your pretty ass in the air, just as I like to see it. I could pull up a chair and just watch it for  _hours_. I’d even make you wiggle it for me a few times. Or maybe I should find something pretty to put in that hole, like we talked about before. Something nice to look at.”

Rhys pictured his Lady elegantly slumped in her favorite armchair, wearing nothing but the black lace lingerie she had on tonight. Both heels on the ground, hands tapping the arms of the chair in a rhythmic compass, sometimes coming to pinch her lips, as she did when she was thinking. All the time, big blue eyes on his body, ordering him to move in any way that would please her, or just contemplating his form thinking of new ways she could use him.

Never had Rhys Gold been more thankful for his imagination. It was such a vivid image she might as well had pulled up a chair and been behind him the whole time. Between his thighs, his cock stirred, but hung quietly again.

“But you have made me a request tonight, and I’ve complied,” she said, forcing him back to reality. “It is only fair that I keep my word.” The pressure on his back softened even more, but her heel did not move. When she spoke, her voice had dropped to a whisper. “Lick it.”

Rhys didn’t realize he was holding his breath until it came shaking out of his lungs. His eyes opened and he stared at the floor. He could reach it with his tongue quite easily, she didn’t even need to press down on his back. But he still refused to move.

“Push me,” he begged her, thinking the weight of her foot between his shoulders might make everything easier. He didn’t think of her title, didn’t think of adding “please” to his request.

Belle allowed herself a moment to think that she probably should give him a lesson on manners one of these days, since he often forgot things like that when his heart was caught in his throat and all he could think about was pleading for her mercy. Although, the soft desperation in his voice was so honest and unrehearsed in those moments it was delightful to hear. It would be a pity to lose that for the sake of manners. Besides, she had the feeling he liked making mistakes with her. That he felt safe enough to do it without fear of the world coming to an end, or whatever it was that men such as Rhys Gold thought would happen if they got anything wrong.

“I’m not making you do anything,” she said, leaving no doubt that her patience was at a limit. “I am  _allowing_  you to do as you asked. And I’ve been too kind with your reluctance, pet. Do you want to lick my floor clean, or not?”

He did.

He really did.

But it would be so much easier if he could just pretend he was only doing it to satisfy her fantasies, and that none of it had been his idea. To will himself to do such a thing, knowing it had come from his mind… it was too much to bear. He didn’t want the responsibility over his own thoughts.  _She_  owned him. Why couldn’t she just own this too?

Belle asked, “Rhys, honey, do you want to get up?” And that was the voice of another woman. Someone careful and attentive who was not playing a role. There was no threat or disappointment, just an honest offer from someone who worried (perhaps a bit too much) about the messy thoughts inside his head.

Before Rhys could find an honest answer inside his head, and before Belle could decide to take matters into her own hands and call the whole thing off, his tongue darted out and lapped at the mess beneath him. The taste was cold and salty and he swallowed it quickly before his mind had the time to fully register what he had done.

“You can do better than that,” she commented, severity returning to his voice. “You have my permission to enjoy yourself. Don’t take it for granted.”

He curled his hands into fists so they wouldn’t shake.  _Better than that_. It had taken him about five minutes to manage a mediocre performance.

Noticing his struggle, Belle removed the heel from his back and, for a second, he feared she might order him up – to punish or send home, it didn’t matter. He had failed.

But she slipped down to the floor and placed a hand on his nape. Just like her heel, it didn’t press down nor forced him to the floor. If anything, it was supporting him, somehow.

“Flatten your tongue on the ground.”

He opened his eyes and looked at her. She had curled her legs under her body and was leaning over him. Her voice had dropped from authoritarian to a soft whisper. This wasn’t an order. This was a suggestion.

“Do as I say, pet.”

He gave her a last glance, and then turned back to the floor, getting his aim right.

Such a mess.

Instead of barely scrapping the floor with the tip of his tongue, he chose a starting point and pressed as much of his tongue as he could manage on the floor.

When he started moving, she suggested again, “Give it a long stroke.” Her hand was the faintest of pressures on his nape. He only pulled his tongue back into his mouth when the pressure was lifted. “Savor it, pet. You deserve it because you’ve been good all night.”

It wasn’t strictly true, but he really needed to hear it. The thought of pleasing her soothed his nerves and he pushed his tongue against the roof of his mouth much more easily after that. The sound of himself swallowing was almost like a sigh.

“Very good, pet. Do it again.”

He gave her two more long strokes, the last with her hand resting on the back of his neck without a hint of pressure. When she said, “You did good, pet,” he rested his forehead on the floor and relaxed his posture completely, finally giving in to his aching muscles. Her hand patted his hair and he breathed in and out slowly, the sound of the air leaving his mouth the only sound in the room.

Rhys felt tired, but sated, as if a second wave of orgasm had washed over him when he wasn’t paying attention. Such a wonderful relief.

“How do you feel, pet?” she asked.

He nodded frantically against the floor, as if that answered her question.

Against his ear, he can feel Belle’s mouth forming a smile. “You know,” she said, “if you always ask nicely, and always do it like I taught you, I might let you lick my floor more often. It is such a beautiful thing to watch.”

Rhys felt himself smile at the thought. “Yes?”

“Yes,” she said, and her hand traced the line of his spine with the tip of her fingers. Rhys moved his head to her lap and waited for her other hand to guide him to her thighs and rest him there. He had to leave. It was a long drive home. But his body felt so relaxed that moving simply wasn’t an option.

“I wish you’d speak up more often,” Belle said. “You always have such good ideas.”

“Crazy ideas,” he stirred, but didn’t move. Belle’s hand was entangled in his hair, stroking it. “Weird ideas.”

“Not at all,” she insisted. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a man so devoted to me.”

He hummed appreciatively at her approval. Devoted. That was how he felt right now. Devoted to his Lady. Owned by her. And there was no shame in that.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: maddiebonanafana.tumblr.com
> 
> Tumblr link: ladybookwormwithteeth.tumblr.com/post/117835728633/rumbelle-fic-special-request


End file.
